


Maybe it's an Assassin Thing

by Captainwittyoneliner



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Awesome Sam Wilson, Awkward Flirting, Crack, F/M, Flower Crowns, Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Natasha Romanov is a dork, POV Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Starbucks, Steve Rogers is a dork, Steve blasphemes, They're all dorks, Weird Russians flirting, actual cats Bucky and Natasha, actual middle-schooler Bucky Barnes, for justice, lazy assassins, super soldier knitting, there's a meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captainwittyoneliner/pseuds/Captainwittyoneliner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Captain America, perusing dead bodies, with a dopey smile on his face. Honestly, that right there should have alerted Sam to how much of a bad idea it was to move in with Steve." </p><p>Two Russian ex-assassins try to flirt with their American ex-soldiers. They mostly succeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd apologize but I like this one so much. Sam Wilson is Bae.

     Sam Wilson can’t exactly say he _regrets_ moving in with Steve Rogers but he can definitely say he should probably have put a little more thought into it. I mean, for Christ’s sake, he met the guy _once_. On a _jog_. Where the man was decidedly an asshole. And then—dear Lord his mama is probably rolling over in her grave—and then he decided to follow this white-ass grandpa into an urban battle zone. Of course, because why not? You wanna know why not? Russian assassins, that’s why not. _Two_ Russian assassins. Not that he’s complaining because Natasha Romanov is one fine woman. But the other guy. The _other_ white-ass grandpa…

     Man, all he wanted was to be friends with Captain America and impress the girl at the front desk. He did not sign up for this shi—well, technically he guesses he _did_ sign up for this shit. He just wasn’t aware this shit involved two Russian assassins, three massacre-ready helicarriers, and one severely fucked up terrorist organization parading as an intelligence agency. But hell, he figures he did pretty well for not being a super-soldier. Or a super-spy. Or an assassin.

     Did it stop there, though? Did it stop with the helicarriers in the Potomac and HYDRA scattering to the four corners of the Earth? Nope. Because turns out, the second Russian assassin? Apparently he’s Steve Rogers’ presumed-dead boyfriend from WWII. Which is great. Really, it is. Steve looks much happier now that he knows Bucky is alive and well. Which is actually a terrifying thing to see when you’re walking through a destroyed HYDRA base littered with dead bodies. Captain America, perusing dead bodies, with a dopey smile on his face. Honestly, that right there should have alerted Sam to how much of a bad idea it was to move in with Steve.

     The reason he moved in with Steve is because rent in New York is absolutely ridiculous after the Battle of New York and Steve didn’t actually want to stay in Avengers’ Tower. He also didn’t want to stay alone like he had in D.C.

     The comic books Sam had read growing up forgot to mention how much of a _clingy dork_ Captain America really is. Still, not complaining because he does genuinely like the dude.

     He also knows to keep his distance after receiving a creepy, blood-written note from the Winter Soldier that just said ‘Steve is mine’. Steve got weirdly dopey over that too.

     Which is _fine_ because he’s not _interested_ in Steve. He’s interested in Natasha. And he’s found out, through observation, that when she genuinely likes you, she is an absolutely awkward flirt. Almost as bad as Bucky. Maybe it’s a Russian assassin thing. But this is why he knows that Natasha likes him too:

     Flash drives.

     Flash drives that she could—and probably should—leave with Steve but always seeks _him_ out to give them to. Files, info, intelligence, mission reports, and once a list of her favorite foods which read classified and destroyed itself after he’d seen it. He made sure he got at least one off the list and left it each time he and Steve changed hotels on their little hunt-for-red-startober. He also found himself picking up stupid souvenir trinkets and buying them thinking of her. He left those out too. Both were always gone by morning.

     Steve was a little more direct with his darling. At their last destination before returning to the States to give Bucky a break, Steve had returned to their room looking fucked out and covered in hickeys. He’d gone to Sunday morning church. _Church_. Captain America had apparently fucked Bucky Barnes _in church_.

     So anyway, they’d returned to the States and started renting a brownstone in Brooklyn together and it was there, on a lovely spring evening, that Steve called Sam to the back porch.

     “Um, Sam?”

     “Yeah, man?”

     “I think you better come see this.”

     Sam got up from his recliner with a put-upon sigh and meandered over to the open back, glass sliding-door. He saw Steve first, standing facing the house, hands on his hips, squinting up at something over the doorway.

     “Yeah, alright what was it you wanted me to—Holy FUCKING SHIT!” Needless to say, he saw the body second. Well, at least this time it wasn’t dead.

     Hanging upside down from the roof of their brownstone, swinging just above the sliding glass door, was a bound and gagged man wriggling furiously and attempting to scream at them. His face was covered in sharpie-drawn dicks and ‘I’M A HYDRA ASSHOLE’. Real mature, Barnes. Steve nudged him with his elbow.

     “This says for your eyes only,” Steve says, offering a small flash drive with a little red heart painted on it. God, Natasha is a dork. But he knows he’s got a dumb look on his own face just thinking about her so he can’t really say much, can he? And how is this his life, now, that the way he flirts with his girl is to leave gifts back and forth like she’s some sort of stray cat he’s trying to adopt?

     For his part, Steve looks like he’s wondering how to get his own present down off of their house. When he does finally drop the guy, cutting the line with a throw of his shield that leaves a dent in the damn wall, a note flutters out of the rope. It just reads ‘Be home soon. Bucky.’ Thankfully not in blood.

     Steve hugs it. He fucking hugs the note. And _giggles_. Sam just sighs and shakes his head, moving back inside where he’ll search for his laptop so he can see what Natasha left him this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Bucky appears.

     Three months—three body filled, flash drive ridden, blood-written note littered months—after they received The Note (yes, capitals), Bucky Barnes does indeed return to Brooklyn. And just straight up knocks on the front door. Like he’s _not_ a wanted fugitive in twelve countries including America. Sam is the unfortunate soul who answers it and then—

     Then they just sort of stare at each other for a couple seconds, Bucky’s eyes narrowed menacingly.

     “Hey, man.” Sam says with a nod of his chin.

     Bucky Barnes says nothing. Just stares at him more.

     Sam turns and calls into the house for Steve without taking his eyes off of Bucky. When Steve arrives at the front door, he gasps like a fainting heroine in one of those period novels (that Sam absolutely didn’t read) and literally _throws himself into Bucky’s arms_. And then they just hug each other. They don’t say anything, don’t do anything, no sloppy make-outs; they just hug. On the front stoop.

     For, like, twenty god-damn minutes.

     Sam checks his watch twice and then ushers them both inside when the neighbors start to give the two men weird looks. He will swear to his dying day that Bucky Barnes—Howling Commando, WWII hero, and ex-HYDRA assassin—straight up _hissed_ at him when he patted Steve’s shoulder to get his attention. Hissed. Like a cat.

     Once inside, the two continue to hug each other. Sam actually feels that it’s getting kind of weird. Not that anything about this situation could be considered _normal_ …Sam sighs and says he’s going to go and make some tea for them all. Steve makes a noise of acknowledgment and Bucky just glares at him over Steve’s shoulder. Sam hasn’t been shanked yet so he’ll count it as a win.

     However, when he gets to the kitchen, he finds the kettle already going on the stove and _four_ tea cups with _four_ separate bags in them waiting on the counter. Which means Natasha Romanov is joining them for the reunion. And has also been watching them for god knows how long. He feels like he should be worried about this but everything in his life is so far past the threshold for normal that it circles right back around and becomes blasé.

     “Hey, Steve,” he says nonchalantly, walking back into the foyer, “I think Natasha—um.”

     And there she was, standing in front of the two super-soldiers hands on her hips, silently staring the Winter Soldier down. Bucky Barnes actually moved _behind_ Steve.

     “Hey, babe.” She acknowledges him without turning around. Sam isn’t sure when they moved into the pet-name territory but he’ll take it because he hadn’t received a flash drive from her for an entire two weeks and he was actually starting to worry.

     Apparently, this is some sort of Russian, claiming competition because Barnes narrows his already narrowed eyes even more (and, honestly, if he narrows them any more he’s just going to end up closing them at this rate) and wraps his arms around Steve’s front, resting his chin on the man’s shoulder.

     Natasha, for her part, lifts her chin up like a haughty five year old, moves back into Sam’s arms, wraps her own around his waist, and lays her head on his chest. He reflexively brings his own arms up to circle around her back and she smirks at Barnes. Who then proceeds to stick his tongue out at her. Like they’re on the fucking playground. Steve just sighs good-naturedly with a fond smile on his face.

     Sam used to be a well-adjusted person…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'll update this as the mood strikes but for now it's always gonna say completed because they're all just a bunch of one-off's.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wild Bucky Stays!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are getting shorter and shorter. Soon, I'm just gonna start posting single sentences.

     Living with Russian ex-assassins isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

     Which….that’s probably the wrong idiom to use, actually, since probably no one in the history of ever has lived with Russian assassins without being, you know, not alive? So, probably there isn’t really a standard of living _concerning_ Russian ex-assassins…

     Anyway, Bucky doesn’t walk. Like, ever.

     Or rather, he probably _does walk_ but Sam has never even _seen_ him actually move. He just kind of appears wherever Steve is; hanging over his shoulder, holding his hand, draped over Steve on the couch and taking up _all the fucking room_.

     He has, thankfully, stopped glaring daggers or throwing literal daggers at Sam (which Natasha would always catch anyway but it was still fucking scary). So, that’s good. He and Natasha also have conversations in Russian with a liberal amount of 50’s Russian slang thrown in so not even Steve can figure out what they’re discussing.

     When he’s not conversing with Natasha, he’s having sappy, lovey-dovey conversations with Steve in whispered tones. The look on their faces, like lovesick teenagers in a young adult romance novel, would make Sam a little sick except he’s pretty sure that he’s developing the same expression when he looks at Natasha. And Sam knows this because when Bucky catches Sam doing it he gives him a self-satisfied, holier-than-thou smirk. Sam will neither confirm nor deny that he stooped to Bucky’s level and stuck his tongue out at the man.

     He and Bucky have fallen into a weird sort of companionship where they don’t ever talk but Bucky won’t drink or eat anything unless Sam makes it for him. Not even Steve. Which is actually understandable because Steve’s cooking is _horrendous_. I mean, man, he thought Steve was joking when he said they used to boil everything. Apparently not.

     Bucky also stalks Sam when he goes running in the mornings, with or without Steve. Sam would _like_ to think this is because Bucky actually cares about him and not because he’s probably plotting his murder somewhere along the route.

     Also, Russian ex-assassins don’t pay rent. Which actually isn’t a problem with Natasha because she actually isn’t there enough to be considered a roommate. But _Bucky_ … Bucky doesn’t leave unless Steve leaves (excluding stalking Sam) and Steve only leaves if Bucky is comfortable going outside. Which is rarely. So, yeah, Bucky is a roommate (or maybe a pet?). He eats their food and uses their bathroom and takes Sam’s favorite body wash and also makes Sam do his laundry.

     Well, doesn’t _make_ him do it but he does slip it in with Sam’s laundry so he doesn’t have to do it himself.

     And who would have thought that the Winter Soldier was so god-damn lazy.

     When Sam finds Natasha’s laundry also in his pile a few days later, he corrects ‘Winter Soldier’ to ‘Russian ex-assassins in general’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, on a scale of one to George R. R. Martin how awful would it be of me to end this entire crack-fic with a major character death?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody dies but it's a close thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody even gets hurt.

     At one point, and Sam isn’t really sure at _which_ point, Bucky starts getting very touchy-feely. He curls up with Natasha for naps in the living room in a position that reminds Sam oddly of ferrets. Steve and he tangle their legs together on the couch and do their weird, twenty-minute hugging thing which eventually devolves into either tickle fights or something more _inappropriate for public areas, Steve_. He even starts latching onto Sam when he’s in the kitchen.

     This would be cute except Bucky is trained to kill a man in approximately a bajillion ways. Of course, Bucky would never kill Steve—and he probably _can’t_ kill Natasha—but Sam is a vulnerable little puff compared to the three super-soldiers he lives with and lacks the history or skill necessary to keep himself off of Barnes’ hit list.

     Which Sam knows he has. Because Bucky deliberately left it out for Sam to see. Whether he wanted Sam to see that he _had_ it or that Sam wasn’t _on_ it, he wasn’t sure. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

     When Bucky first starts getting touchy-feely with Sam, placing a hand on his shoulder while he stirs sauce on the stove, he jumps about three feet in the air and spins around, flinging marinara sauce across the kitchen. The intense look on Bucky’s face is such that Sam thinks, _this is it. This is how I die. Not in battle, but in my kitchen, murdered by my best friend’s weird-ass boyfriend._

     They stand in intense, awkward silence for a moment, Sam’s heart nearly beating out of his god-damn chest, when Bucky slowly… _ever so slowly_ …lifts his metal arm—

     And lays it gently on Sam’s shoulder.

     And keeps it there.

     While still staring at Sam like murder is going to happen.

     “Um,” Sam says, confused and internally freaking out.

     Bucky nods once slowly, as if giving Sam his seal of approval. Then, he drops his arm and leaves.

     “ _Um_?” Sam says again, still a little freaked out.

     This goes on for a while and gets to the point where Sam no longer jumps or thinks he’s going to be murdered when he feels Bucky’s cold, metal fingers way too close to his fucking neck. Bucky then graduates to touching Sam while he’s not in the kitchen and let me fucking tell you, that shit _did not_ go over well the first time he did it in front of Natasha.

     They were all in the living room watching baseball when Bucky looks over at Sam from his spot by Steve. He scoots down the couch towards him and Sam can _feel_ Natasha tense from her place beside him.

     “Bucky,” Steve warns, but Bucky ignores him as he usually does. Bucky lifts his metal arm to place it on Sam’s shoulder and Sam would totally allow it because it is definite progress from getting knives thrown at him. Except before Bucky can bring his arm down, Natasha moves.

     Next thing any of them knows, Bucky and Natasha are fighting on the living room floor, trying to pin the other down and breaking everything in sight. Sam had really liked that lamp. It really brought the room together.

     When Steve and Sam finally get the two apart, Bucky looks like he’s going to cry and immediately curls up with Steve on the love seat across the room. Sam turns to Natasha and gives her _a look_ and Sam thinks she does actually look a little regretful of her actions.

     Bucky doesn’t touch Sam or Natasha again for the next six days.

     That is, until Natasha apologizes by teaching him how to make flower crowns.

     Sam, at one point, is wearing so many crowns on his head that it’s actually becoming a problem but when he tries to take them off, Bucky gets a really intense look on his face. Honestly, he looks really intense _all the god-damn time_ but if Sam removes one of his flowery gifts he looks even _more_ intense. He’s just glad the really scary assassin dude no longer looks like he’s going to cry.

     Even if Sam’s allergies will never be the same again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And you get a weird hobby, and YOU get a weird hobby...

     “Hey, Sam,” Steve walks into the living room with another flower crown on his head, looking around anxiously, “have you seen my knitting needles.”

     “No, sorry, man,” Sam says hoping that neither Bucky nor Natasha have gotten hold of them and grimacing at the thought of Steve’s knitted creations.

     And that’s a thing now. _Captain America knits_. Oh, wait correction: Captain America knits _badly_.

     The brownstone is filled with Steve’s awful creations and Sam loves the guy but really _what_ is that puke-green monstrosity Steve said was a _tea cozy_? It’s lumpy and ugly and actually a little scary but Sam keeps it on the teapot even though it swamps the thing and isn’t very cozy at all. He keeps it there because every time Steve sees it, he gets this accomplished look on his face like that tea cozy’s existence is the best damn thing he’s done in his life—forget taking down HYDRA and saving the world and being the best damn artist Sam’s ever _seen_ —this cozy right here. This is life goals met, man.

     Not only do the scarves seem to have three ends instead of two and the cozies look like strange medusa monsters, but all of Steve’s little works come in an assortment of eye-assaulting colors. Like, blue-screen-of-death or baby-shit-brown. Once a bright lime-ish color that nearly caused an accident when Bucky wore it outside. Whatever _it_ was.

     Sam adjusted his own crown and looked around the living room, seeing Bucky sitting and making yet another floral gift (he was getting pretty good and had quite the eye for detail and balance) by the window. Natasha had just come by with a large batch of long-stemmed flowers for him to use before kissing Sam and saying she had a mission. Sam wasn’t moping. He wasn’t.

     “Have you checked the basket on the stairs?” He asks, referring to the wicker basket they use to ferry knick-knacks between levels.

     “Yeah, I looked there,” Steve said with a pout.

     “Did you accidentally leave them in the fridge again?”

     Bucky snorts and Steve blushes indignantly.

     “No,” he draws out the syllable and Sam narrows his eyes.

     “Are you sure.”

     Silence. Steve shuffles off to the kitchen. He shuffles back with a superior look on his face.

     “Nope.” He says with more certainty, arms crossed over his chest and smug grin on his face.

     “So, you still haven’t found them,” Sam reminds him and Steve’s face falls. Sam thinks they could probably procure world peace if they just bottled that ‘hurt puppy’ look up and used it on various dictators or world leaders.

     Bucky stops his crown and looks at Steve for a long moment, grimacing before sighing and pulling the needles in question from god knows where, begrudgingly handing them to Steve who makes a happy noise and goes back to his room. Probably for more eye-assaulting yarn. Sam just stares at Bucky as he goes back to work.

     “Dude,” Sam says. He’s not sure why, but he feels like he should say something. Bond over their mutual dislike of Steve’s newest weird hobby. Or the fact that Steve's 'hurt puppy' look really _could_ be used to procure world peace. 

     Or _at least_ get ex-assassins to hand over the goods.

     Bucky just shrugs, finishing the crown and coming over to lay it on top of the one already on Sam’s head. Sam sighs.

     “I like the color. Very well done,” he compliments.

     Steve starts teaching Bucky to knit after that, mistakenly thinking that Bucky had hid the needles because he’d wanted to learn himself. The metal arm’s articulation means that he’s a thousand times better than Steve at knitting. He even knits a cozy for his arm after he realizes that the cold metal makes Sam shiver.

     It’s in black.

     Everything he knits is in black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like knitting is much like dancing. Steve can't do it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> White girl needs.

     Sam wakes from his peaceful slumber in the middle of the night knowing, with all the assurance of someone who is both a soldier and dating an assassin, that he is being watched.

     Sam bolts upright in bed reaching for his sidearm in the bedside table before a piece of paper is shoved in his face and Sam recognizes the shape of Bucky Barnes looming over his bed.

      _And that’s not creepy or anything_ , Sam thinks, sighing in exasperation before scrubbing a palm down his face and reaching for the paper instead. It’s in Bucky’s metal hand and Sam’s fingers brush against the arm cozy, making him smile despite the time which is—

      _Which is fucking three am_ , Sam notices with a jolt. He reaches past his alarm clock, stifling yet another sigh and turns on his bedside lamp as Bucky continues to loom over him, somehow still menacing while wearing pajamas. He looks down at the note.

     Bucky still doesn’t really _talk_ to him though he communicates as best as he can with Sam. What he can’t communicate in various grunts, glares, and gestures he accomplishes with simple notes, scrawled in messy capital letters like the information is urgent.

     This one just says: CAN WE GET A DOG.

     That’s not a question…

     Wait a minute.

     “Why are you—,” sort of, “—asking me…?”

     Bucky takes out his little pad of colorful sticky notes and a pen and scribbles another note with the concentration of a man defusing a bomb. It takes a minute for the short sentence but Sam is patient, understanding that Bucky has to relearn writing in English after so long without.

     STEVE SAID ASK YOU.

     Sam is confused for a minute before the words register in his sleep addled brain and he has the unwanted realization that _he is mom_.

     Sam just sits staring unseeing at the paper and wondering where the fuck he made the turn from counselor to mother and who the father is. Is it Steve? No, that’s too weird. Natasha? Probably. Although it could also be Maria…Fury? Sam nearly gags at that thought.

     Sam’s distracted enough not to have noticed Bucky scrawling another note for him to read until this one, as well, is shoved in his face.

     I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT.

     Sam’s still a little caught up on the fact that the Winter Soldier, previously a HYDRA assassin and master marksman, is asking Sam for a puppy like an excited six year old.

     Fuck it, Steve’s name is the one on the lease.

     “Sure, man, I don’t see why not.”

 

 

     The dog sitting in their living room the next morning looks awfully familiar, though the dark-headed white girl next to it does not.

     The golden retriever has one eye and a dog vest rigged to carry various weapons, mainly arrows, while the girl is standing there with a Starbucks coffee and designer shades on (indoors, like she’s Tony Fucking Stark).

     Bucky is also in shades—Steve’s aviators, Sam notes—sipping what appears to be a caramel frap. One of his hand-knitted black scarves is wrapped securely around his neck but his black beanie is on Natasha’s head. She’s standing on the girl’s other side and is also wearing shades and sipping a coffee.

     Sam is torn between pride that Bucky went out by himself and interacted with other humans—though still not _normal_ humans—and concern that Clint will be coming by for his dog. And all their coffee.

     Steve pets the dog on the head and gives Bucky a brilliant smile which he then returns before offering Steve what’s left of his Frappuccino (which is not much).

     Sam looks at the dog and then at the line of heroes, all waiting for his approval.

      _Mom_ , he thinks dazedly, _I’m mom._

     “I think I’m gonna go back to bed,” Sam says.

     One things for sure, though: Steve is definitely not dad.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All these motherfucking arts and crafts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER

     Steve dies first.

     Steve always dies first when they’re playing Super Smash Bros. He is, decidedly, the worst at anything that is not a first person shooter (which he dominates at). Usually, Bucky is next, though on rare occasions he does beat Sam out for second place. Natasha is first as always because there is literally nothing she can’t do.

     However, her attention span is short and usually after a few rounds she stops playing and instead snuggles up to Sam until he can’t physically play and has to snuggle her back.

     Then it’s just Steve and Bucky playing and Sam has never seen two such competitive losers in his life. Not only that, but they’re both dirty cheats as well. Once it gets down to just the two of them there’s elbows being thrown, sabotage via button pressing, random kicking and shoving.

     One time Bucky even kicked Steve off the couch. Another time, Steve just sat on Bucky so he couldn’t play or even see the screen.

     It gets so bad that Sam and Natasha have to move to off the couch and retreat to the love seat across the room.

     It’s on one such occasion, Steve and Bucky nearly giving each other black eyes and Sam and Natasha safely cuddled up on the loveseat, that Sam discovers that Natasha cross stitches. She doesn’t just cross stitch, though. She cross stitches _subversively_.

     She’s already pulled out a small sewing box, embroidery thread, and a half-finished piece with what Sam can only say is the ugliest fucking salamander shaped thing he has ever seen. The words ‘belev in urself’ curl across the top.

     She must sense his confusion (like she senses fear) because she looks back at him with a grin.

     “What?”

     “What on God’s green earth is that?” Sam asks, pointing at the monstrosity on the fabric. He’s not dumb enough to think she’s done it on accident. Even if she did it on accident, she did it on purpose. Which…don’t fucking ask him how that makes sense…

     “It’s shitty charmander.”

     “It’s what?”

     “Shitty charmander.”

     “I don’t know what that is.”

     She sighs and pulls out her phone, typing something in before handing it to him. He scrolls through the pictures with a pensive expression.

     “Barton showed you this, didn’t he.”

     Natasha just smirks down at her cross stitch, snuggling further back into him.

     Bucky wins (barely) and Steve tackles him to the floor. They roll around and end up behind the couch at which point Sam has to remind them that any more ‘wrestling’ should be taken to the bedroom.

     Sam wakes up the next morning to a framed cross stitch that says ‘Be My Bitch’ in a fancy font, surrounded by hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such an asshole. This is how Natasha's going to ask Sam to marry her.


End file.
